


The Murder of Max Russo

by interpret_who (Blizdal)



Category: Wizards of Waverly Place
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dubious Morality, Family, Family Issues, Gen, Implied Physical Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Murder, Siblings, Temporary Character Death, implied depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21804664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blizdal/pseuds/interpret_who
Summary: Max dies. Max is brought back. Nothing is okay. / A spell shatters the Russo family.
Relationships: Justin Russo & Alex Russo & Max Russo
Comments: 19
Kudos: 51





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> AN: The murder happens near the end of season 4, somewhere after Wizard of the Year (S04E16), but before Justin’s Back In (S04E19).   
> This fic consists of Prologue, four chapters and an Epilogue. Roughly 10,000 words in total. Will post a new chapter every day or every couple of days.

Max will say later that dying didn’t hurt.

(the fact that it was his sister that did it _did_ , though. He never says.)

He had looked up when he heard her say the spell. The smile she had was her usual _up-to-nothing-good_ smile. The beam that flew out of her wand was purple. Before it him him he had known it would kill him. He doesn’t know how he knew, but he did. He didn’t have time for fear or hurt or anything else. He didn’t have time to move. He didn’t have time.

(Max usually doesn’t go for melodramatics, but he died, so feels entitled to some melodrama.)

He reenacts the story, running around, playing all the parts; doing the voices, getting all the expressions right-he will make a fine actor one day, the best, no magic used, but making magic all the same-

He smiles when he finishes the story, the death-can’t-harm-me-I’m-fearless smile, but it is a brittle thing, and you can almost hear it grind with the rest of his face. It doesn’t belong there; He stretches his mouth to form it and it hurts in a way he can’t explain.


	2. Chapter 2

Justin goes to college and it’s everything he ever wanted. Except he gets homesick when first semester ends and he can’t go home.

He calls the house and his mother picks up. He almost cries when he hears her voice.

(he doesn’t say a word and she ends the call, annoyed. He will call again, every time things get really bad, and never break his silence)

He’s too young, really; Too small, too weak, too trusting. He’s broke and desperate and so terribly afraid. His magic doesn’t work right. Doesn’t grow the way he knows it should. He still has it though. That’s something.

He used it before the first day of classes to make himself look older, but the change is skin deep. It helps him find a job in a coffee shop and things get better, but… he spends all holidays and all birthdays alone. That first year, he spends his entire birthday waiting, hoping against hope that at least Alex will visit. Or send him a happy birthday message. Anything. He cries himself to sleep, like the little boy he is, when she doesn’t.

And it’s- many people in the world have no one and they deal, but he has an entire family, and he is denied it. Or maybe he never had anyone. He is just a duplicate, after all. A clone. He doesn’t matter.

He has nightmares and he wakes up from them sweaty and terrified. Dreams he is a balloon in the shape of a man, and someone punctures him with a needle, killing him dead. Feels inhuman, not real, an object given life.

He goes home one day, hides behind a newspaper stand and spies on his family. He sees the other him with Max and Alex and is filled with such loathing for her it leaves him shaking. He thinks about going inside the Sub Station once the other him leaves and pretending to be him, just for a little while. He doesn’t in the end. He can’t risk being found out. He doesn’t want to die. He may be a thing, but he is a living thing.

He leaves and vows never to come back.

(Four years after she created him, Alex calls him back.

He goes.

Forgive him, he goes.)

* * *

Justin sees someone hiding behind a newspaper stand but doesn’t manage to catch the sight of their face. It’s probably nothing anyway.

He goes inside the house and to his room. They have magic studies in couple of days and he needs to prepare.

He studies the theory and practices the wand movements until his arms shake. He feels for the magic inside of himself and he pulls it up, steadily, as the spell demands. But it is a slippery thing and he cannot grasp it properly. It takes him the whole day to get any sort of effect and another to perfect it.

Later that day, it takes Max and Alex an hour to master the spell and he feels like screaming. It’s a good thing he studied in advance. He just wishes he didn’t always have to.

It’s only when he goes to Wiz Tech for the first time that he realizes that he is not slow to learn, his siblings are just really fast. He finds it absurd that they don’t seem to know it.

(He’s not going to be the one to tell them.)

* * *

It gets better once he masters the basics. When you have strong foundations, it’s easier to build up.

He’s lucky that his siblings are lazy. He’s got a chance at winning the Competition.

He just has to work harder and hope they never notice how easy magic comes to them.

(He asked Max once about the slippery nature of magic and Max looked at him uncomprehendingly. He flicked his wand and it rose, beautifully, to the surface and _stayed_ , stayed until he flicked his wand once more. Effortless.

He never asks Alex. Alex would have figured out why he was asking and she can’t know, she _can’t_. Not if he wants to have any chance of winning.)

* * *

Magic whispers in Max’s ears and his fingers tingle with the need to use. Like that feeling when you are full of energy and just can’t sit still. And magic is a form of energy, no? Justin said so, so it must be right.

He uses it. It won’t be around forever, after all. He knows he won’t win the Competition. Not with Alex and Justin around. It was never a fair competition. He’s not as smart as Alex, let alone Justin. And he’s the youngest. The one who had the least time to prepare. So why even bother?

(The truth is, Max and Alex were the magic prodigies. Not Justin. And when you are a prodigy, time simply matters less.

The truth is, Max could have won.

The bitter truth is that in the end he didn’t, but he still got it all.)

* * *

Someone’s been in Justin’s room, things have been moved and stuff is missing.

He doesn’t know if it was Alex or Harper. He tells his father about his thieving sister and her stalker best friend-

his stalker. How is this his life? He has a _stalker_.

-but he just laughs it off, like it doesn’t matter.

It matters, okay, his _undies_ are missing. His skin crawls when he puts clothes on now, always wondering if Harper had touched them. His clothes look clean and they smell clean but they feel dirty.

Alex watches him fidget in discomfort and smiles.

Then next day they meet next to their school lockers and she complains to him about Gigi and he tells her about Ryan, from math class, who has been spreading nasty rumors about him. She laughs and tells him he had it coming, but a couple of days later no one seems to remember the rumors. Selective mass amnesia is not something that just happens, Justin knows. Alex doesn’t say anything, but he knows it was her. He is grateful, but a kind act doesn’t stop his clothes from feeling dirty, doesn’t stop his skin from itching.

(Alex thought it was a simple enough spell to perform. What she found less simple was facing Ryan and not doing something worse. Her brother is hers to hurt.)

* * *

His sister is a bully. Their parents encourage it by not discouraging it. 

* * *

Alex gets an F in Spanish and he rats her out because-

Alex always finds a way to hurt him or embarrass him, and mostly she does it because it amuses her; she always lands the last punch, so he’s learned to enjoy the rare times when he lands the first.

_He can’t win. Not against Alex._

It’s not nice of him; it’s not what a good big brother should do. But it’s not like their parents wouldn’t have found out that she failed her midterm. Their mother has the teacher’s number on speed dial for a reason.

Alex gets her revenge anyway. She always does. She’s the winner and he’s the loser, and no matter how hard he tries to change it, it always ends up the same way.

(Sometimes, when he lies, curled up on his bed, trying to get over the latest hurt Alex brought upon him, he thinks: _mom and dad could stop her._ He rolls the thought in his head, examines it from all the angles, as if it were a complex thing. He doesn’t cry, not until he thinks: _they don’t._ And it’s not exactly a thought, more of an echo booming inside a rapidly forming hollow in his heart.)

“What are you crying about now?” His sister asks, standing in the doorway of his room. Her tone is mocking but there is something wary about the way she is holding herself.

He sets up quickly, turns his head away from her and tries to surreptitiously wipe his tears away.

“Go away, Alex.”

She doesn’t go away, but she also doesn’t cross the threshold, just stands on it, neither here nor there. She clears her throat awkwardly, and he’d say she was feeling regret if he didn’t think her incapable of it. 

* * *

He ignores one of Max’s stupid ideas. Turns away and leaves before Max even finishes saying it.

(doesn’t see the way Max’s face crumples)

* * *

He studies for his grades and she cheats. Always cheats. It _galls_. Daddy’s little girl; no matter what she does wrong, she always comes out on top. No matter what she does, she is always forgiven. He remembers the echo under his ribs, the small _they don’t stop her_ , that seems to be growing louder by the day. He thinks: _I could hurt her back._ And not the petty things he does now, but hurt her the way she hurts him. It’s a horrible thought.

He doesn’t understand how she can enjoy making him miserable.

(he will learn)

* * *

Life is good for a while, stalker girls notwithstanding. He learns how to fly a magic carpet and a magic broom, and he does it all with Alex being none the wiser. School is going great. He has a lot of friends, not that his sister believes him; his grades are good and his tutoring business is flourishing. He doesn’t even mind helping Maxy with his homework at the Sub Station.

His mother doesn’t do it because she doesn’t want anyone to see her and think she is old enough to have a child as old as Max. Sometimes Max looks hurt when she denies that he is her child in public. He used to look hurt every time it happened, and it is better now, now he has mostly accepted it, as both Justin and Alex had to. Their father just finds it funny and even that has stopped cutting a long time ago.

(Theresa asks them once if there is a magical way to keep someone young, or at least looking young and they all say no. Even her husband.

They all _lie_.)

* * *

Wizards live long lives, did you know? They can live for hundreds and thousands of years. And some of them give it all up, for the woman they love.

Jerry gave it all up, for the woman he loved.

* * *

The phone rings and Jerry picks it up. It’s their mystery prank caller again. He resolves to call the phone company and deal with it, but the person on the other end lets out a quiet, heart wrenching sob and he doesn’t. There is something about that sob he knows. And his heart doesn’t really drop down and sink, but rather it feels like something grabs it and thugs it down until it drowns. Panicked, his eyes cut to Justin, sitting at the table, reading a book and making notes. Not him then. He could have sworn…

The call ends and Jerry puts the phone down and grabs the edges of the counter for support. His legs feel weak.

It can’t be Justin on the phone, sounding like a dying animal. Justin is right there.

It can’t be him.


	3. Chapter 2

Justin finds a ring on his bed, with a peach pit in place of a stone and he remembers this, he recognizes it as the same one Harper put on his ring finger that time she attempted to sell trash she referred to as jewelry.

He doesn’t know how she got into his room.

He throws the ring away and later pretends not to notice the way Harper is looking at his ringless finger, heartbroken. (She’ll finish making that white dress anyway, as pure as freshly fallen snow, with a veil made of apple stalks. She doesn’t give up easily.)

Alex smirks in the corner, amused.

She helped Harper get into his room, he knows it. He has wards, but Alex has always been brilliant and there is little that can stop her once she puts her mind to it. And she doesn’t consider upsetting him to be _work_ , but her life’s joy. She put her mind to it.

He checks his wards, only to find them obliterated. Months of work _gone_. On a whim. On _her_ whim.

He hates her, a little bit, then. Hates her smirk, and her mischief filled eyes; her powerful magic and the ease with which she wields it; her thoughtless cruelty.

He hates his little sister.

(He loves her so-)

* * *

She insults him when he knows things but comes to him when she needs his knowledge.

(Max follows her lead, and laughs at him, and makes fun of him and it used to hurt, but it doesn’t anymore, because he knows Max won’t cross a line. Max is _oh so careful_ of the lines, more than any of them. More than Justin.)

He always helps her but that doesn’t mean he always caves immediately. He makes her work for it, sometimes. He dreams of a day he will be able to say no to her and walk away without coming back after a moment, or a day, or a week, but walk away for good, and leave her standing there, in her own mess. There will come a day when he won’t care for her pleading eyes and trembling voice.

He yearns for it so badly that he ignores how those dreams feel like nightmares.

When that day comes he will remember those dreams and think _finally_ , but he will feel no victory, just sorrow underneath all that rage.

(Justin crosses the line more than he should. He learned it from her.)

* * *

Alex doesn’t know that before Rosie and Juliet, before Miranda, there was Gigi. They went to the movies, and he held her hand when he walked her home. She smiled at him at the door and blushed when she told him to call her. It didn’t last long, she was too mean and he too shy, but it was nice. Gigi is pretty and has a really cute nose and Alex can’t wrap her around her little finger, which is always a plus.

(He knows Gigi needs a tutor. He knows she wants what Alex wouldn’t want her to have. He _knows_.)

Later, she mocks him about his haircut, make fun of his bangs and his binder and his suit and when he asks her, later, _why, Gigi, why_ , with real hurt in his voice she cuts him a sharp look, unapologetic and says, “Someone needs to tell you that you look ridiculous. I’m doing you a favor.” She looks away.

It hurts a bit less when he realizes that she is trying to be kind, in her own way.

* * *

There is a boy at school named Johnny. He is not a friend. Johnny has slammed Justin into a locker far too many times to be anything but a bully. Until Max shows up with bruises on his arms and a bloody nose, and Johnny becomes more than a bully. He becomes an enemy.

Justin has never been good at dealing with Johnny. Usually he just runs away and hides and begs if he is found. He is useless in a fight and using magic will just get him in trouble. But. Max flinches when he checks his nose and his blood is red. Of course it is red. Justin knows about hemoglobin and hemes and the interaction between iron and oxygen and how light is reflected. He knows where the red comes from, but it shouldn’t be on the outside. It should be hidden by the skin. And it’s not.

A few weeks later Johnny stares at him with wide eyes, disbelieving, as he is expelled from school. The things is, nobody expects Justin to lie, especially not to an authority figure. But he does. He lies and lies and lies and he will never scrub himself clean from all the lies. It wasn’t just the lies, of course, but it’s not that hard to plant evidence. His hands are dirty now, and it doesn’t feel like dirt, but like grease, slippery. Magic comes easier to him after that, for some reason. Like it was waiting for him to realize that morals are a thing for mortals and he’s not one.

He clenches his fists and banishes that thought. He won’t fall to the Dark Side.

This was just a one off. Just a one off.

Afterwards, Max looks at him with that not-so-common-but-not-as-rare-as-people-think light of clarity in his eyes and very carefully doesn’t say anything. He moves to pass him by, and leans into a hug before he does.

(Justin’s moral compass works just fine. It’s the north that moves.)

* * *

Zeke prefers angry Alex over angry Justin. Alex is mean, but Justin is methodical. Zeke has been a nerd his entire life, he is used to dealing with mean. He has seen Justin angry before, but never furious, and he doesn’t want to. He came close a couple of times. He saw the shadows at the corners of Justin’s eyes and the curl to his lip, malicious and so unlike his friend that Zeke felt a shiver run down his back. Justin’s fury is a cruel, vicious thing. It leaves a heart tattered and bleeding.

“You don’t want to make Justin mad,” he warns her one day and she laughs that throaty, carefree laugh of hers.

“I make him mad all the time,” she says, like she doesn’t know that there is a difference between being angry and being mad.

“What do you think he would do? Get even?” she asks, as if that would be ridiculous.

“No. Justin doesn’t get even.”

“You got _that_ right.”

He considers leaving it at that. He needs to get to the clogging practice and it’s not like he likes Alex very much. Then again, he does like Harper and Alex is Harper’s best friend. “Do you know who Johnny Tilman is?”

“No?”

“He was in our year.”

“Was? Did Justin bury him in a ditch somewhere? Or did he figure it out that hanging around nerds is a stupid thing to do? Did he run away screaming?”

“He was expelled.”

“Oh? What did he do that was so bad they had to expel him?”

“He was a bully.”

She bursts into laughter. “Since when is that enough to have someone expelled?”

“It’s not. Justin made it happen. He’s vicious when provoked.“

“Ha! Justin? Vicious? Oh _Zeke_ ,” she says pityingly, and slaps his shoulder lightly, “you adorable, weird puppy.”

(She will remember his words, a few years later, when Maxie forgives and Justin doesn’t; when Justin takes Mason away from her, in revenge; when he stops being able to see her happy. She will realize that true viciousness is a learned thing, and it can be learned by anyone.)

* * *

Alex made a clone of him, apparently. He’s not sure what to think or feel.

He merges with his copy in the end, and they both die, in a way. He knows that’s not what happened, but that’s what it feels like. He dies. And the other one dies. And no one is truly dead.

And Alex still tries to pretend like she’d done him a favor.

_How was college?_ She asks, and he responds, truthfully, _Easy_ , but keeps it quiet that life was hard.

For a moment, she watches him uneasily, like she can feel the unspoken words. He meets her eyes and waits with baited breath, but she blinks and turns away and they never talk about it again.

(She utterly lets him down.) 

* * *

“Four years in college?” His mom asks, with an inviting tell-me-everything smile, and he slips, he slips, he slips and says with a shrug, honest, “Not everything was bad,” implying that most things were, and his mother blanches and he runs away before she can ask anything else.

The thing is, he doesn’t really remember the bad times, the actual events. Years have passed and when he looks back at them, the memories are faded. He remembers that he didn’t feel good. He thinks of the past and he doesn’t smile fondly. He doesn’t remember a lot of happy moments, and he thinks that is quite telling.

He remembers calling home a lot. Remembers learning how to cry silently.

It was what it was, simply. It was what it shouldn’t have been.

* * *

Alex pushes her brother again and again again, wanting to see how much it will take for him to break. How much he can take before he starts crying and shouting; before he folds. There is something incredibly satisfying about making him feel powerless. It’s not like she will ever truly hurt him, and woe befall anyone else who dares even try. It’s just funny. The look he gets on his face. It’s funny. Harper doesn’t say anything, but Alex gets the feeling she disagrees.

“He’s not laughing, though.” Max says, as he catches the end of her monologue, moving through the room with a fishing rod and a fire extinguisher in one hand and a chicken in the other. By the time she turns to face him head on, he is already half way up the stairs, mumbling about stupid horses.

What does Max know anyway.


	4. Chapter 3

Justin builds a monster and it calls him daddy. And she is not very monstrous, really. But. But. She rates as a monster when the monster hunters come, and she could be one, if he wanted her to be.

(could rip into someone’s guts with a smile on her face, if he had her do it)

He never does, to his credit, never even thinks about it. He takes glory in his achievement, in combining magic and technology, but he never thinks about what he could do with her, to her.

(he creates life and doesn’t think twice about it.

There is something wrong with this picture.)

* * *

Max releases all the monsters from the book and all the monster hunters die.

Conscience despairs. _People are dead, Max, because of what you did_ , it whispers.

Max shrugs. They weren’t very good at their jobs then.

* * *

Harper moves in with them and he doesn’t understand how anyone can think that inviting his stalker to live with them is a good idea. Future Harper has shown that she never grows out of her stalker phase, and just recently she knitted him a sweater made out of her own hair and it’s not funny. It’s not.

“Harper is a sweet girl,” his dad says, when he tries to complain and no, no she’s not.

His father sighs, not in disagreement but in understanding, “She’s a good influence on Alex.” He admits, apologetically. Like it doesn’t matter that Justin doesn’t feel comfortable or safe in his own home now. It’s not like he can use magic against Harper. There will be hell to pay if he does. Alex only has one friend and is willing to do anything to protect her.

She mocks him for having only Zeke, but you don’t get to win the student body president election in high school without having a bunch of friends. Zeke is his best friend, but hardly his only one.

It’s not his fault his sister is incapable of having more than one friend.

* * *

He exposes the wizards and Alex makes it worse, and she had good intentions but they are out of the competition and he’s worked so hard for it, he-

-almost plunges the world into darkness while under Rosie’s and Gorog’s influence and Alex comes after him and helps save him. And no one truly blames him for what he did while he was under the influence, but everyone praises her and she’s back in the competition and it feels like there is a snake, wiggling inside his belly, biting his insides.

He should be shitting and vomiting blood but he isn’t.

* * *

Alex gets the Wizard of the Year Award, and he makes her miserable. Hurts her so badly she actually looks down instead of holding her head up high. And he feels bad, but not because of her pain, but because of it hurting his chances of getting back in the game. He thinks about it, briefly, and wonders when he became okay with hurting her. He can’t remember.

* * *

He spends most of the time in his room. Harper tends to stare at him and it creeps him out.

If only Zeke didn’t like her so much.

* * *

He can’t find his guitar. He didn’t lose it. Alex has it stashed somewhere, with the rest of his favourite things.

He should leave. Move out. He graduated high school, he graduated college and yes, he can go further, advance his studies but the thought of going back to university leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. The memories of his clone are still too fresh, too raw. Maybe one day. When the apathy he felt then, in the end, doesn’t threaten to swallow him whole again.

He tries to ignore the messages from his college friends; the girl he left without a word, the one he loved but not as much as he loves Juliet; the emails from the university where he applied to do his Master’s degree and never showed up.

He still pays for the bills for his apartment. He doesn’t have to stay here with his parents, and siblings and Harper. He can leave. He _should_ leave. If for no other reason than because Alex doesn’t want him to.

Instead, he tries to forget four years of his life. He focuses on magic. Learns and practices and he will win. He will _win_. He must.

* * *

_I messed up_ , and Alex doesn't think the words but she does feel them, like falling through the ice into freezing water.

Justin fixes it (fixes Max), barely, and his wrath is terrible. He doesn’t speak to her. He doesn’t say a word. His entire face goes dark, as if a shadow falls over it and-

Justin is a big brother. But he is not just _her_ big brother. She forgot that. He is also Max’s.

And Max died. He breathed out, softly, and the light in his eyes went out. And this was not a normal spell, not one that can be easily undone, but a spell from the Forbidden Book of Spells.

Alex screamed for Justin and he ran in and she sobbed her _sorrys_ and _I didn’t mean tos_ before he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her and-

“Which spell? Alex! Which spell did you use?!”

She glanced at the book, still lying there, open on the page with the spell and he took in the title and paled.

Her parents got there then and saw Max lifeless on the floor, her sobbing and Justin throwing things off the shelves, searching frantically-

Theresa crumpled next to Max and Jerry saw the book and cursed. Justin ran back to them, family wand clutched in his hand, foreign words on his tongue, guttural and powerful, and her father gasped, obviously recognizing the spell, and the look on his face was- grateful , so unbelievably grateful but tinged with sorrow. And Alex felt tentative relief and joy, _Justin can fix this_ , but that sorrow looked ominous. It looked _ominous_.

And then Justin pointed the wand at himself, still chanting, and started drawing glowing, white strands from his heart, and he was crying but his voice was steady and-

He flung all that whiteness at Max’s body and it lifted it slightly off the ground, before it sank, underneath the skin and Max opened his eyes, white light shining from them briefly, before fading away, and he gasped in a lungful of air.

Their father caught Justin as he pitched forward and murmured _thank you thank you thank you_ into his ear. 

Max set up and Justin’s eyes were on him, for a second, making sure, and then they closed in unconsciousness and the wand slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor.

Jerry lowered them both down, slowly, and looked at Alex with eyes she has never seen before.

She looked away, only to see her mother clutching Max to her chest whispering _mijo_ over and over again.

* * *

“Does this mean I’m Jesus now?” Max asks as soon as his mother quiets down. She lets out a loud sob and holds him tighter. He tries to perform a miracle, but it doesn’t happen.

(magic hums possibilities in his ear and it feels stronger now, a bit more serious and ordered than he is used to. Steady and determined, it’s a war drum. Maybe that should scare him, but it doesn’t. He feels safe. His magic pulses in time with his heart and it feels like- it feels like-

His eyes fall upon the figure of his brother, unconscious in his father’s arms and the magic misses a beat, and he knows how he came back, he _knows_.)

* * *

“What was that white thing he pulled out from himself?” she asks her father and he says, flatly, “His magic,” and she is just about to say _duh_ , because of course it was his magic, you need magic to cast a spell-

“All of it,” her father continues and-

* * *

Harper is sitting on the couch when Alex approaches her.

“Harper?”

Harper looks up, her face pale and eyes big, “What if it had been me down there with you?”

Alex stops, confused. It doesn’t really matter, does it? It wasn’t Harper, it was Max, and he is okay now. Justin fix- She shies away from those thoughts. Justin will be fine. They’ll find a way to fix him too.

Harper’s hands are trembling, “Justin wouldn’t have given up his magic to fix _me_.”

Alex opens her mouth to say _Of course he would have_ , but the words won’t come out.

Harper’s mouth twists into an ugly shape.

Alex can’t speak.

Harper shakes her head, in defeat, and leaves.

(Alex has promised not to use magic on her again, not unless it is to fix gray hair and saggy skin, but Alex is not known for keeping her promises. Harper had no way of knowing, before she left, that that was one promise Alex would always have kept. It didn’t matter anyway. There are some people you just have to leave.)

* * *

They call Professor Crumbs because Max asks _Am I still a real boy,_ and he is not kidding.

“You are.” Justin says and their father nods, but they call the professor anyway.

He is serious when he comes through the portal, knowing that the Russos wouldn’t call without a good reason. His eyes zero in on Justin like he can tell that something is missing, but Justin thinks it’s okay _, it’s okay_ , because they don’t zero in on Max. They would have if he had brought him back wrong.

Professor Crumbs listens when they tell him what happened and he examines Max; a long look first, a spell here, a spell there, a poke in the stomach and a tug on his ear.

Everyone breathes out a sigh of relief when he proclaims him perfectly fine.

“I won’t start eating human brains?”

“I did not turn you into a zombie, Max.”

Max shrugs, “Just checking,” but there is such stark fear on his face that Professor Crumbs puts a hand on his shoulder and repeats, “You are fine.”

Max nods, accepting the words, and smiles, relieved. Professor Crumbs steps away and toward Justin as Jerry and Theresa converge on Max.

“That was amazing spell work, Justin,” he says, both proud and sad, and Justin can’t meet his eyes, he can’t.

“The last I’ll ever do.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yes, well…” he looks at Max, wonderfully alive, and doesn’t-

will never, can never

regret, but- “I wish there had been another way.” He freezes and finally meets Professor’s eyes, “Was there another way? No-“ he looks away, changing his mind, “don’t tell me. It doesn’t matter now.”

“There wasn’t.”

Justin can’t tell if he is being lied to.

“That was the only way to reverse that spell.”

“You are not being merciful?”

“Not today.”

* * *

Professor Crumbs goes to Alex then and, “I take your power,” he says, “for the murder of Max Russo.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Alex whispers, as her magic forms into a ball in his hands and he tucks it away, inside his robe.

“I know,” Professor Crumbs says, disappointed and sad, and _regretful_. He took her magic once before, and gave it back. She knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he wishes he had kept it.

She wants to argue. How can there be murder if no one is dead? She opens her mouth to do just that, but then she catches sight of her brother.

Max is looking at her, from across the room, and his eyes are wide and disbelieving but also relieved. Relieved to see her magic taken away from her. It hurts, but then she remembers his lifeless body on the floor-

“We will wait for a few days for the things to settle, and then we will confer the powers of a Family wizard on Max.”

Justin closes his eyes and shudders.

Crumbs leaves, Max chokes out a confused _what_ , and Justin runs out of the lair, with his father close at his heels.

Alex slides down against the wall, and puts her head in her hands.

Theresa is sitting next to Max, looking at him like he is one of God’s miracles.

* * *

As a young boy, Justin catches his father in the lair, holding the family wand in his hand, waving it softly in the pattern of a simple spell but nothing happens. No sparks, no light, nothing. His father doesn't look heartbroken or bitter, just resigned and melancholy. Justin leaves the room quietly, without making his presence known.

(He remembers that moment now, alone in his room after having sacrificed his magic. He clutches his wand and tries to do a spell, and like with his father all those years ago, nothing happens.

He breaks his wand that night. Breaks it and leaves the pieces in front of her door.)


	5. Chapter 4

Jerry gives his magic up to be with Theresa and no one in his family understands. Not his parents, or siblings, and not his children, later, when they are old enough to know. Theresa doesn’t understand either, not really. She can never really understand what it is that he had given up. He doesn’t regret it, not for one moment, but he tries not to think about it because it hurts too much. The absence of his magic is a gaping wound, still raw, never-healing.

Then Alex messes up worse than ever before, and Justin comes to speak with him, afterwards, eyes haunted and voice raw, “I get it now.”

“Get what?”

“How you could give up nearly unlimited power for someone you love.”

And Jerry is reminded of that age-old pain again and the strength of it takes his breath away. He has always known that two of his children will feel it as well, after the Tournament, but he never expected one of his children to give it up for another, as he has. There is a difference between losing your powers and giving them up.

Justin weeps and Jerry has no words of comfort to stop it. He remembers none of them ever helped him. He squeezes his son’s shoulder and Justin burrows his head in his chest like a little child.

He wishes they could all keep their magic and never know the pain of having it be gone.

* * *

Justin snaps his fingers to unlock the fridge in his room before he remembers that he has no magic anymore.

It takes him five days to approach Max about it; Five days of stumbling in the dark because all his lights need magic; five days of being unable to open the window or turn on his computer. Five days-

“Max, I need you to undo all the spells in my room.”

Max easily agrees. He comes into his room and pulls out his wand. Justin turns to leave. He doesn’t need to be here for this.

“Err, Justin?”

“Yeah?” his voice catches, embarrassingly, and Max gives him a sympathetic look.

He scratches his head with the tip of his wand, and hesitates, “How do I do that?”

For a moment, Justin thinks he is going to cry. Max seems to agree because he looks away.

Justin takes a deep breath and talks him through the removal of all the spells.

Unexpectedly, the ache beneath his ribs eases by the time they are done. Max is smiling, happy to have gotten the hang of it, and before he realizes what he is doing, Justin hugs him.

For a moment there, the image had flashed before his eyes, Max’s happy face replaced by the dead one, from a few days ago.

Max hugs back, hesitantly at first and then crushingly. “Thanks.” He says, quietly.

* * *

It takes Alex a week after the incident to find Max. She’s honest about being sorry, but Max is not used to his sister hurting him, not like Justin is. He is not used to his sister killing him, which is a good thing, he thinks. It means it doesn’t happen often.

She touches his shoulder, gently, and he recoils.

He doesn’t mean to.

* * *

Max cries that night. Cries until his eyes hurt and then some. He wakes up the next day with his eyes achy and puffed up, and his cheeks wet.

Later that day, at dinner, she can’t look him in the eye, and he can’t look her in the eye, and Justin, sitting next to him is like a dark cloud, a thunderstorm waiting to happen, heavy and oppressive.

A strangled sound escapes his throat and everyone falls completely silent.

Justin breaks it, a few seconds later, when he starts coughing and doesn’t stop. He runs to the bathroom, and shuts the doors closed, but they can still hear him.

Max goes after him, but stops when he reaches the door. He leans his head against it and splays his palm above the doorknob but he doesn’t open it and go in. He closes his eyes and listens. His brother whimpers in pain, after a particularly vicious cough, and he shudders. He doesn’t know what to do.

(There is nothing he _can_ do.)

Professor Crumbs said that magic can’t be used to heal him, not when it’s the reason for him feeling unwell. That any magic cast on him will hurt him, from now on. It thrums loudly inside Max’s veins and he thinks at it, bitterly, _you useless thing_ , even though it brought him back to life, and he wouldn’t be around to think it without it.

So lost in his own thoughts, Max almost falls flat on his face when Justin opens the door. His brother catches him, out of reflex, and stumbles a bit under his weight, but doesn’t fall.

When Max takes a look at Justin’s face he sees something too complicated to decipher. Then Justin looks away, and whatever was there is gone and Max doesn’t miss it. He doesn’t know what it was, exactly, but it should stay gone.

* * *

“She didn’t mean to, Justin,” Max tells him, a few months after he dies (after Alex _kills_ him) and Justin brings him back from the dead, “and professor Crumbs took her powers because of it. Isn’t that enough?”

“No.”

“What _will_ be enough?”

“She’s seeing Mason. She’s still breaking the rules. She _never_ learns.”

“That’s not the same.”

“She does what she wants, always, and doesn’t care who gets hurt in the process. The only thing that is different is that I no longer have magic and can no longer fix her messes.”

“Nor mine,” Max says, quietly, still not comfortable with the way he became the Family wizard. He didn’t earn it. He became one because he was the only one left eligible.

“You always fixed your own messes. We rarely even knew you had them.”

That is true. No one knows about the donkey in Canada or the sandwich shop on the moon. Or the-

“You were never so selfish and so careless.”

“Alex isn’t-“

“You _know_ she is. Don’t defend her. She does something good occasionally. So what? That doesn’t make her a good person, just not a horrible one. At least, that’s how it used to be. Now-”

“It was an accident.”

“Is that what she told you? It was no accident. She took the book, she chose a spell, she aimed and she cast. She just didn’t understand what the spell was going to do.”

“Justin.” Their father reprimands him, from the door, shopping bags still in his hands. Justin didn’t even hear him come in.

Alex is standing next to him, her face pale and eyes wounded. Justin shoots her a mean look, empty of regret, and after a second of absolute silence she runs through the room and up the stairs.

“She is still our sister,” Max says, but despite all his preaching, Justin knows that he is still not ready to forgive her. Max used to sleep like a baby, but now he always wakes up in the middle of the night. Justin can hear him, through the wall, pacing.

Jerry sighs, and looks at them both sadly. He opens his mouth to say something but then he thinks better of it. Instead, he goes to the kitchen and deposits the bags on the counter.

* * *

Max, bless him, has always been the best of them. It will take a lot for Justin to admit that. It will take Max waking him up in the middle of the night, expression torn, shadows of death still lurking in his eyes and the family magic thrumming in his-

_only his_

-veins, for Justin to hug him close and whisper _you deserve it, Maxie, it’s all yours_.

“I can feel it,” Max will whisper, equally quiet, “the magic that was _yours_. It makes my heart beat,” he will confess, awed.

Justin will clutch at him, harder, and Max will wince, in pain, but won’t pull away.

* * *

“What did you think was going to happen, Alex? That we would all just _Live in the moment and move on_ ,” he says snidely, throwing her motto at her as if it were the most vile thing in the world. “Max _didn’t_ live,” he continues, and his tone changes, turning into something desperate and horrified, “he was _gone_.”

_Please don’t say it._

“dead.” Justin sobs out, “dead, dead, dead.”

“He’s alive.” Alex says, through her tears, “he’s okay.”

Her brother stills, “He cut himself the other day, just to see if he would bleed.”

* * *

She checks Max’s arms later, and finds a single line. She traces it with a shaking finger. “You cut only once.” She whispers hoarsely, relieved, because there could have been dozens there. Dozens.

He looks at her strangely. “Why would I cut more? Once was enough. I didn’t bleed wood.”

“Wood doesn’t bleed.” She says, but he knows what he means.

“Yes, it does. If you are made out of wood. But I bled blood, so I’m not.” he finishes, serious. So serious.

A shadow falls over them and she looks up to see Justin, glaring daggers at her, furious and protective.

* * *

There is not a drop of magic left in Justin, in his bloodline. Her children, if she chooses to have them, will still have magic, but his never will. He tells her this, when no one else can hear. Not because he regrets paying the price, but because she must know what it was.

(There is something incredibly satisfying about the way all the color drains from her face. Once upon a time, he would have hated to see her cry.)

* * *

Kelbo dies and it wakes Jerry up in the middle of the night, magic of their generation rushing into him at full speed. He screams and screams and screams from the pain, and he wakes the whole house up. His skin lights up yellow and then the light fades away as it settles in. It feels different than he remembers. More playful. Then again, Kelbo had it for so long he’s not really surprised it feels that way.

His children burst into the room and he can hear Theresa frantically calling his name, but he just closes his eyes, unable to look at their faces.

His brother is gone.

* * *

He died as Shakira, on stage, in a freak accident. Just a loose peace of equipment, falling down on her head.

The world mourns her and the Russo’s mourn him. His sister doesn’t show up for the funeral but Jerry gets a call from Paris afterwards. Megan doesn’t say a word, just hangs up after a few seconds and they never hear from her again.

Luckily, he had stopped missing her a long time ago.

* * *

The first time Jerry looks into Justin’s eyes after regaining his magic forever sears itself into his soul.

(Justin doesn’t come to him for comfort anymore. Never again tells him how much he misses having magic and how hard it is to breathe without it. )

* * *

(Jerry thinks, despondently, _I will outlive her now, and I will outlive two of our kids._ )

* * *

Felix comes barging through the portal, “Mr. Justin! You’re here. Great!”

“What are you doing here, Felix?”

“I need help. So, there’s this spell-“

“I’m not a wizard anymore, Felix.”

“I know. I still need help. This spell-“

“Felix!”

“I don’t need you to do the spell; I need you to help _me_ do the spell, Mr. Justin. So-”

* * *

Professor Crumbs assigns Justin new delinquents to tutor.

“I’m not a wizard anymore,” he reminds him. His age must be catching up to him, he thinks, saddened.

Professor Crumbs looks at him, unconcerned, “Neither was your father when he thought you.”

It makes Justin stop and think. It’s true, after all. And he had managed to help Felix earlier.

(He tries and it works until it doesn’t. Until Felix accidentally casts a spell and it hits him and instead of just turning his hair purple, his body rebels and turns against him and he starts seizing, and blood starts trickling down his ears and Felix never ever again points his wand at someone unless he fully intends to cast.)

* * *

Justin gets sick more often now, when he has no magic. It takes him longer to recover. What should be a mild cold leaves him hacking his lungs out. Professor Crumbs sighs sadly when they call him. It’s what happens when your blood is scorched earth, he says, when you burn it clean. It doesn’t kill you, but it definitely doesn’t make you stronger.

* * *

Justin coughs and coughs and coughs, and Alex can no longer bear to hear that sound.

He catches her packing her suitcase and the fire in his eyes turns to ice.

She shudders. It’s one of those things you don’t realize were there, until they are gone.

* * *

Alex leaves. Justin doesn’t come out of his room to say goodbye, but she sees him looking outside of the window when she gets into the taxi. His gaze is a heavy, painful thing. Her parents and Max are outside; Theresa waves, Jerry raises his hand in farewell when the car drives away. Max just follows it with his eyes, his stare blank.


	6. Epilogue

She comes back after a year. Her parents forgave her, somehow, and they hug her, grateful that she is alive and well. She turns to Max, but he keeps his distance.

“Hi, Alex,” he says, and she breathes a sigh of relief, because she hears no hate there, just a hesitant welcome. He smiles slightly, bravely and it hits her like a ton of bricks- there is no bravery without fear.

She did this. She taught her sweet, fearless Max fear.

“Lunch is getting cold,” Justin says and she flinches, surprised. She didn’t think he’d come. She turns towards his voice and the look on his face is as terrible as it was that day.

“Food!” Max exclaims and runs to the table, giving Justin’s shoulder a quick tap on the way. It’s nothing he hasn’t done before but it feels different than she remembers. A reassurance.

It makes her feel like an outsider. An enemy at the gate.

* * *

Mason hurts Alex.

Justin tells Juliet about the scars he saw on his sister’ stomach, in the shape of claw marks. She had raised her arms above her head, stretching, and her shirt had hiked up, exposing the damning lines. He is the only one who had noticed.

Juliet listens, never calling him a liar. “He gets jealous,” she says, touching her hip, absently. His eyes follow the movement, understanding dawning.

“Werewolves have a temper. There’s a reason magicals aren’t allowed to form lasting relationships with mortals. She can’t defend herself anymore.” Justin grits his teeth, and she adds, sadly, “And neither can you.”

She still loves him, he knows, and he loves her back, but they can’t be together now, not when he is a mortal. It is forbidden, and for a good reason. The power imbalance is just too great. His father was lucky, in a way. He could give magic up to be with Theresa. Juliet can’t stop being a vampire. And Mason can’t stop being a werewolf.

The rules about this are harsh but necessary. But rules never meant much to Alex. They were only ever a list of things to be broken.

* * *

He goes to Mason, and Mason, to his credit, doesn’t lie and say he didn’t hurt her.

“You can’t stay with her.”

“I know.”

“You’ll end up killing her.”

“I know.” He chokes out, again. And Justin sympathizes, he really does. He had to leave Juliet, he knows how much it hurts.

* * *

Mason doesn’t say goodbye to Alex, just disappears without a trace.

(he’d never leave if she asked him to stay.)

* * *

When Alex confronts him about Mason’s disappearance, he just smirks, satisfied and she starts to cry, looking heartbroken and _betrayed_.

“I love him.” She says, “You are my brother. I love him. Do you hate me that much? Justin? Justin. _Justin_. What did you _do_?”

He doesn’t say: I know he hurt you. I know you bled. Doesn’t say, _all we did was talk_.

“When will you stop punishing me? Maxie forgave me. Why can’t you?”

He didn’t do it because of Max. He lets her think he did, though. He may not be as gone as she thinks he is, but he is pretty far gone.

He can’t let her know he still cares.

* * *

Crumbs looks at his favorite student and _grieves_. All that potential, gone to waste. All that knowledge he’ll never get to use and spells he’ll never invent. Justin would have been one of the greats, he suspects. Would have made a spectacular successor.

He used to feel similar about Alex. He has never met a wizard before who used magic in such an instinctive and effortless way. So much unlike her older brother who wrestled with every spell until it _listened_. She was born speaking the language of magic and he had to learn it word by word.

Her words used to make a story and his a scientific article.

(Max’s make a joke. He is more like Alex than anyone wants to admit, when it comes to his relationship with magic. He understood it from the moment he was born, he just never had much to say).

* * *

Time passes and things get slightly better. Alex visits her family more often. Her parents seem relieved.

(Max stops flinching when he sees her smile that particular up-to-nothing-good smile).

Justin is never there. He is always busy, doing science stuff with Zeke for a company they founded together.

“He’s doing well,” Her mother says. They all knew he would, magic or no magic.

* * *

Alex messes up and usually it is not a problem. She is pretty and smart and has an incredibly sharp tongue. One of those things usually works, but not this time. Magic would fix this, but she has no magic anymore. It’s been a long time since it has been taken away.

She goes to Max. He is the family wizard after all. Being a family wizard doesn’t just mean that you get all the magic to use for yourself. It’s called being a _family_ wizard for a reason. You use the magic for your family as well.

Max listens to her, but only shakes his head _no_ , when she’s done.

She is not surprised. She did kill him after all. Of course he wouldn’t want to-

“I don’t know how,” he interrupts her train of thoughts, looking apologetic and embarrassed. He opens his mouth to say something else, but doesn’t. She looks away.

Justin would know, but Justin wouldn’t tell.

Justin wouldn’t tell if he knew it was for her, but he doesn’t have to know. He doesn’t have to know.

She looks back at Max to tell him her plan and hesitates. There is something in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“Do not ask me to lie to him for you.”

And once… Once, Max was a little boy who she could have convinced, but he is a grown man now, who had died and had come back. Magic thunders in his voice, powerful and unrelenting.

She doesn’t ask again.

* * *

Justin is visiting his parents and he does not expect Alex to step through the door, but there she is. He glances at his parents quickly only to find them acting casual, _too_ casual. He sighs. He should have known that they’d try to meddle.

Alex meets his eyes and stops, frozen, like a deer in the headlights. He just looks at her. He digs inside himself, his head, his heart, his bones; deep, at the bottom of his calcaneus, for a shred of forgiveness, where gravity might have pulled it down, into his heel bone. He doesn’t find any. He doesn’t say a word to her and she mistakes it for cruelty.

Alex lifts her head, a brave little tilt up, and says hi.

Justin should be able to let it go. Max did, and Max was the one who was murdered. His little brother looks at him with sad, resigned eyes and Justin knows this. He knows and he feels guilty for not being able to forgive, for making Max feel bad, but he can’t. The things is, it’s not just about Max. Max’s murder was the straw (boulder, it was a giant boulder) that broke the camel’s back. And maybe Justin has no right to be the camel in this story. Maybe he should follow Max’s lead.

(He _can’t_.)

“Hi.” Justin returns and walks past her to sit at the table. She reaches out to grab his arm when he passes her, but decides against it. Her arm hangs in midair, extended for a moment and then she brings it down, back to her side before he can turn around and see.

* * *

Forgiveness never comes. Or it does, from everyone else but Justin. Too bad it’s the one that matters to Alex the most.

Max tries not to let it hurt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this was supposed to end on a brighter note. Then a writer's block happened. I hit a wall, a massive wall I couldn't break through before I accepted that a happy ending just didn't feel right.


End file.
